


lifetimes

by Avereality



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Golden Deer run but Byleth and Dimitri fall in love a lot, Immortality, Reincarnation, There's a coffee shop AU in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avereality/pseuds/Avereality
Summary: Byleth and Dimitri meet across multiple lifetimes.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 25
Kudos: 83





	1. Resting Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [Karini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karini/gifts).



> Hello! Welcome to another work of mine :D This was inspired by a lot of heartwrenching comics on Tumblr with Byleth in the far future, and is gifted to LuminousxRuin for her lovely comments and Karini for her fanart on my previous fic :) Also, I promise this has a happy ending, unlike my first one, [Forgive Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163609/chapters/58189633). If you have the time, do check it out! Thank you again for reading this. Leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed!

There are days after the war when Byleth feels like she has lived a thousand years. And days when she wishes she was a normal human, unburdened by immortality.

But it is on days like this that Byleth remembers to be grateful to just be alive.

“Thank ya kindly for constructing this place, Your Majesties.” The bearded grave keeper bowed until he was at ninety degrees, hands straight at his sides.

“At ease, please,” Claude’s lips spread into a warm smile. “It is my pleasure. We were classmates, and they fought bravely for Faerghus. They should rest undisturbed.”

“May they rest in peace,” The grave keeper agreed gloomily, eyes downcast, and stood aside to let them in to the graveyard.

It’s a quiet, beautiful clearing that is wonderfully cared for, and untouched by the ravages of war. The vibrant grass has been carefully trimmed. Daisies and baby’s breath bloom freely, dots of colour stark against the green canvas. Dusk casts a warm orange glow over the clearing. Bright life brimming amidst cold, dead stone.

The contrast is startlingly painful. Byleth feels the loss like a physical blow.

Claude closes his eyes briefly and he wipes his face once with his gloved hand. He murmurs something and then straightens, composure set roughly in place. Byleth barely catches the whisper of “ _unnecessary loss_ ” on the wind.

He turns to her. The setting sun casts a shadow over his melancholic smile, making him look haunted. “Shall we?”

Byleth inhales deeply, composing herself, and nods.

They move from grave to grave, exchanging amusing anecdotes about each Blue Lion in the Academy days and murmuring well wishes for the departed. As the sun sets, they come to a stop in front of Dimitri’s grave, the center of the graveyard and the grandest tombstone.

The gravestone is carved like a throne, a huge Crest of Blaiddyd engraved and inlaid with blue sapphire in the center. A painting of young Dimitri in his Academy days is painted on the stone. Below it are the words, _Here rests King Dimitri Blaiddyd, 1162 - 1186_. A fitting tribute for the last of the Blaiddyd line.

The two of them are somber as they gaze upon the gravestone. Dimitri’s painted face smiles warmly back at them. Something deep inside of her aches at the sight of that innocent smile. 

Claude chuckles to himself. “He liked you, you know.”

Byleth is quiet, smiling bitterly. “I know.”

They grow quiet as they reminisce. She remembered the wide and lovestruck smiles when he greeted her and the shy glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. He had once blushed like a tomato after tripping ungracefully in front of her.

She might have accepted him as a partner, had he asked, she admitted to herself.

“He was a good man,” Byleth declared out loud, firmly. “A wonderful student.”

“He would have been a great king. Anyone could have seen how much he cared about people,” Claude agrees. “If only he had the chance.”

“But now, we will never know.” She swallowed; her throat tight. Her jaw and her fists were clenched. Dimitri’s face blurs in her eyes, warping into a face far older and more deranged, yelling for Edelgard’s head. Stabbed with lances and left to rot on a wide-open field.

A warm hand wrapped around her shoulders and jolted her out of her memory. Byleth didn’t realise that she was trembling (with anger or the force of holding back her tears or both, she didn’t know) until Claude pulled her into his side, his warmth a comfort against the night wind and the grief that had warped her dreams since the end of the war. 

“Rest in peace, Dimitri. May death be kinder to you than life was.” Byleth’s words are halting, punctuated with sharp inhales meant to keep her tears at bay.

Claude murmurs the same. They both bow in respect and leave, the symphony of the cicadas and frogs a light tune to soothe their turbulent moods.

“You know, breaks are important, Teach.” Teasing Claude is back. Byleth appreciates the attempt to lighten the tension. “You could travel, now that Fodlan’s no longer closed off to the world.”

“I’m…immortal now, Claude. I have thousands of years to rest and travel.” There’s no mistaking the exhaustion in her tone.

“Teach.”

The urgency in his voice causes her to snap her eyes to his face instantly. “Everyone made their own decisions. You did the best you could. You cannot blame yourself for it.”

Byleth shrugs. “But something could have been done. All of you were just kids, Claude. I wished I could have done something for him when we were in the Academy.”

Claude is quiet for a beat, and then replies slowly, “Maybe in our next lives, things will change.”

Her head tilts to the side in curiosity. “You believe in that?”

“Well, if immortals like yourself exist, I don’t see why reincarnation is impossible. Maybe I’ll be as handsome in my next life too.” He throws her a saucy little wink that draws a slight smile out of her.

“There is that elusive smile.” He smiles and pats her on the shoulder. “Whatever happens, Teach, live your life well. If you have regrets, fix them the next opportunity you get. And don’t waste time, Teach, even if you have lots of it.”

She holds those words close to her heart as her loved ones age and depart. She’s left in a changing, fast-paced world looking no older than she was right after the war.


	2. The Lion Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth saves the Lion Prince from bandits, and other shenanigans.

A couple of centuries pass and Fodlan becomes a speck in her world view. As promised, after settling her affairs and saying her goodbyes to Seteth, Flayn and Rhea, she travels the world. Through the icy lands of Ferox, the breathtaking sakura blossoms of Hoshido, and the ruins of Temple of Mila in Zofia. Byleth leaves Fodlan behind, but Fodlan and its past inhabitants always visit her in her dreams, not all pleasant.

She’s just leaving a remote town in a faraway land when her sharp ears pick up the sound of metal clanging and furious, panicked shouts.

Sensing danger, she runs towards it, hand on the hilt of her sword. A horde of bandits with unkempt hair and tattered clothes have surrounded and overwhelmed a small group of knights in polished silver armour engraved with an important looking insignia. A blonde man in black armour and blue sash are commanding them.

They’re in need of assistance, that much is clear. Byleth draws her sword and surveys the area quickly.

She begins at the outskirts of the group, picking off unaware opponents with precise and graceful swings of her sword. Soon, some of the bandits turn away from their original prey and stalk towards the new threat. They leer and wolf-whistle.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?” “We’ll treat you real nice!”

Byleth is silent as she cuts through the first of them easily. Soon, the lewd remarks turn into shouts of fury as more and more people fall. They come at her more seriously, but their ranks have thinned enough that the knights have started to come to support her and take on her opponents.

She finishes off her last one before looking around for anyone in need of help.

An axe-wielding bandit attempts to sneak up and blindside a young knight (Ignatz, her heart squeezes) struggling to hold his own against a taller, stronger lancer. Byleth immediately runs in and parries as the bandit brings the axe down, catching him off guard and off balance. Without missing a beat, Byleth runs him through the chest.

At the same moment, Ignatz missteps and stumbles, allowing his opponent to lunge forward with his lance, hellbent on piercing him through the gut. Byleth catches his mistake and quickly tries to free her sword. She pivots sharply and runs to save him, a sinking feeling in her heart that she’s not fast enough- 

When another lance parries the blow expertly and pierces the bandit’s heart cleanly, saving him.

Byleth exhales slowly, warm relief filling her at the sight of the knight unharmed.

“On your feet,” Ignatz’s saviour, the blonde man Byleth had seen earlier, extends a calloused hand to help the shocked knight up. “Are you well?”

“Yes, sire,” Ignatz shifts his grip on the hilt of his sword, nodding vigorously. He inhales and exhales sharply to compose himself before running back into the fray to help mop up the last of the stragglers.

“Thank you very much for saving him, and for helping us out of trouble. I’m Prince David Barclay.” The deep voice of the blonde man makes her turn her attention from the knight to him. Something in his voice reminds her of someone she once knew-

The moment her eyes land on his face, Byleth swears that lightning struck her then and there.

It’s as if it is a gift from Sothis herself, for Dimitri stands before her in a patch of sunlight. Familiar, warm blue eyes twinkle at her. His red lips curve into a warm, grateful smile. The sun shines down on his short blonde hair, lighting it up like an angelic halo.

The blue sash he wears is embroidered with gold thread and a blue brooch with a lion standing on its hind legs is pinned on it. She could laugh at the irony of it. Some things never change.

She must be staring intently because Dimitri’s grateful look morphs into one of polite concern. His head tilts and his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly.

A moment passes before she clears her throat and her voice makes an appearance again. “You’re most welcome, Your Highness. I’m glad I could save someone’s life.”

He’s alive and well, but all she can remember is her nightmares of him dying in multiple ways; pierced by lances, beheaded by a white axe, executed in the middle of a grand courtyard.

An older looking knight comes over and bows, and Dimitri turns his attention towards him. Byleth seizes the opportunity to sheath her sword and compose herself.

“Your Highness, the bandits have all been taken care of.”

“Excellent work, Gustav. Are all the knights unharmed?”

“A few light injuries, but nothing too serious, Your Highness. Although I do suggest resting before we journey back to the capital.” Dimitri nods in agreement. The knight, Gustav, then turns to look sternly at her.

“Thank you for your kindness, milady. But who may you be?”

“I’m Byleth Eisner, a traveller,” She offers hesitantly, unsure of their intentions. Gustav and Dimitri share a knowing glance.

“Lady Byleth, this may seem…unexpected and unconventional, but we saw the way you fought, and we are currently desperately in need of capable knights for the Barclay royal family. Would you be interested?” Dimitri’s tone is earnest and pleading.

Byleth’s heart is swayed by his familiar puppy dog look and Claude’s voice in the back of her mind whispering, _fix them the next opportunity you get_. She can’t let this chance go. She wants ( _needs_ ) to make amends and set things right.

So, Byleth says yes, and follows them back to the capital to be knighted.

* * *

Being a knight brings back old routines and memories.

She spars with Dimitri in their spare time, and her respect and admiration for him grows every time he manages to knock her to the dirt. He’s stronger than he was back in the Academy, more skilled. He wins more often than Academy Dimitri did, as a result. But she still has the advantage of years and years of experience.

“You challenge me like no other, Byleth,” Dimitri’s head falls back against the ground and his eyes close, exhaustion clear as day on his face. Sweat drips off his cheek and splatters onto the dirt. But the corners of his lips lift into a satisfied smile. “Even Gustav, with all of his experience, presents an easier challenge than you.”

“Believe me, you challenge me as well, Your Highness,” Byleth smiles slightly and extends a hand to help him up. He accepts it and jumps back to his feet, swaying slightly. “I believe it is best if we call it a night.”

Her suggestion is met with silence, and she turns around to find him staring at her, eyebrows furrowed, a faraway look in his eyes, like he recognises her but can’t quite place her.

“Is something the matter, Your Highness?”

“I’ll be honest, Byleth. I can’t seem to shake the feeling that we’ve met before. Recently, I’ve been having dreams of a green-haired woman like yourself teaching in a wide-open training ground like this one. It felt like I was there, being taught…”

He continues. “In the dream, I felt admiration of the greatest extent, perhaps even to that of romantic affection.”

Byleth’s heart thumps loudly against her ribcage, but she schools her expression into a blank mask.

He's watching her carefully, curiously for any reaction.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that would be possible, sire. I’ve never been to this part of the world before I met you.” Byleth deflects. She knows exactly when that memory occurred. She can almost see him in his training uniform, listening intently to her as she demonstrated a parry, if she squints hard enough.

He seems disappointed at her answer and is silent for a beat before acquiescing. “You’re most likely right, Byleth. Come, let us call it a night.”

She lies awake in bed that night, wondering what it means if he’s getting glimpses of his former life, and ruthlessly stomps any frivolous thoughts of crushes and romance with the reincarnated king.

* * *

Dimitri’s waiting for her one morning as she's about to embark on her usual morning walk. He’s fidgeting nervously with the edge of his blue sash, spine ramrod stiff. When he spots her, he drops the sash and clasps his hands behind his back, attempting a carefree smile.

“Good morning, Byleth.” His voice cracks. Blushing, he clears his throat. Byleth’s amused as she returns the greeting.

“What brings you here today, Your Highness?”

“I was hoping to accompany you this morning.” A request with space for her to deny him should she feel uncomfortable. Chivalrous as always, Byleth smiles fondly. She nods, and relief and happiness flood his face as they set off.

They walk, enjoying the slow waking of the world. Birdsong sounds from the trees; flowers show their face shyly and the sky begins to lighten with soft pinks and oranges.

Between enjoying the scenery, the pair chat. Dimitri admits that he hates the pretentiousness and formality of royal life; the traditions, the etiquette. He tells her dryly about the horror on the lords’ and ladies’ faces when he was exhausted and mistakenly used the wrong spoon for soup once. She can sympathise; being Claude’s Captain of the Guard nabbed her invites to stuffy royal receptions that she wished she could get out of.

They stop on a rocky overhang just as the sun peeks over the horizon.

“It's beautiful,” Dimitri whispers. Byleth nods, thinking that he's referring to the sunrise. But she turns to find that he's looking at her with a soft gaze.

She looks away quickly, cheeks warm despite the cold snap in the air.

“We should be going,” She blurts out quickly, and marches off in the direction of the castle. His deep laughter sounds out behind her, and soon he's following her, deliberately slower to give her space.

 _She’s just here to protect him_ , she repeats to herself. But she’s blushing all the way back to the castle.

* * *

Another part of her job scope is teaching knight recruits. The first day she meets them, she is overwhelmed by the similarity to the Golden Deer and throws her heart and soul into them. Dimitri stops by regularly to join in and spar with the students.

Her heart swells with happiness as she watches him correct the students with a firm hand, and she catches herself wanting to smile when he sneaks into her classes, hiding himself from his royal advisors.

“Excellent job, Byleth,” Dimitri looks pleased as they watch the recruits’ sure steps and firmer fighting stance.

“I’ve had a lot of experience teaching,” Byleth smiles. “It’s not an easy task, but when you succeed…”

“Which you will,” Dimitri nods at the recruits. “They improved so much since you arrived. We have been sorely needing another combat instructor. And you, my friend, are the best of the best.”

“I’m glad I can be of service, Your Highness,” Byleth laughs.

The companionable silence between them is punctuated by the sounds of metal clashing and falls on dirt, before it is broken by Dimitri’s low voice and heavy footsteps walking away.

“And please, Byleth. Call me David.”

Byleth turns around sharply only to see his teasing smile as he disappears around the corner. She smiles bitterly, even as her heart flutters.

The moment feels bittersweet; he trusts her enough to allow her to call him by his first name despite only having known each other for a few weeks. It feels like the Academy all over again.

Her eyes squeeze shut. She prays to Sothis that he lives to a ripe old age.

* * *

She also accompanies and protects Dimitri in the castle and away on visits around the Kingdom.

Even in this life, Dimitri cares much for the plight of the common folk. He leaves the castle often to survey the state of the capital and nearby towns; information that he brings back to improve policies for the prosperity of the kingdom. Byleth is moved by his passion and confidence, his kindness towards the less fortunate, and thanks Sothis for giving her the chance to protect this man and right what went wrong all those years ago.

One day, he visits a poor town, and sees orphans begging on the streets. He’s gentle and kind as he entertains the children with play-fighting and gives them food to eat, but Byleth sees the tenseness in his shoulders and jaw.

As they leave the town, Byleth pipes up.

“Are you alright?”

They stop walking. Dimitri turns to look at her and sighs, running a hand through his hair agitatedly.

“What if I’m not good enough to help them? What if what I do is not enough?” His shoulders are slumped. Eyebrows furrowed, and he works his lower lip between his teeth. He’s visibly distressed, a rare moment of displayed vulnerability only for her to see.

He bows his head. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, indeed.

She reaches out slowly to touch his cheek. Blue eyes bright with unshed tears snap up to look at her.

“You care about them. You check on them regularly and enact changes to help them. I can see that they love you.” She smiles reassuringly.

“You’re doing well.”

His mouth slowly curls up into a genuine, tender smile that fills her with warmth. His eyes are soft as they take her in, and then to her surprise, he pulls her into a hug. The weight of his head is heavy on her shoulder, and his breaths are warm against her neck.

She’s stiff at first, unused to the physical contact. But his warmth is so addictive that she sinks naturally into it, hugging him back with equal affection. They’re both embracing like they’re drowning, and the other person is a lifeline. She never knew she wanted this so badly.

“Thank you.” He whispers gratefully. “Your words inspire me with confidence to strive to be the best ruler I can be.”

“You’re welcome,” She whispers back as they reluctantly let go, traitorously wishing that she could feel his warmth just a bit longer.

* * *

The years pass blissfully. Dimitri and Byleth settle into a comfortable rhythm. He steals glances at her with increasing frequency during their morning walks. She makes it a point to invite him for a cup of chamomile tea at least twice a week. Byleth feels content for the first time in centuries.

They’re out and about in the market, chatting enthusiastically with merchants when her peaceful life blows up in her face, literally.

Byleth is thrown onto her back, ears ringing and a wet, sticky substance running down the side of her face. She’s dizzy and disoriented, but years of honed muscle memory has her immediately reaching for her sword and scrambling to get to her feet.

The sight that greets her when she’s upright again is not a pretty one. The explosions have blown the walls of the market in. Huge debris lines the street, crushing unsuspecting citizens and turning the market into a terrifying death maze of collapsing walls and trampling feet.

To her horror, Dimitri is in the center of the chaos, fighting off a circle of masked opponents. Choking dread pushes her forward.

But the panicked and horrified crowd is a tsunami, pushing her further away from her charge. She can’t draw her sword. When she tries to use Divine Pulse, the pounding in her head only worsens to a painful pressure that almost knocks her out. Her only option is to go forward, and pray she reaches Dimitri on time.

She pushes back against the crowd but can only move a gruelling inch at a time. In the meantime, he’s fighting them with all the mercenary precision and ruthlessness he learnt from her.

She’s almost there when a shadow passes by overhead. She looks up and realises it’s another assassin leaping from a nearby rooftop, knife glinting wickedly in the sunlight. She pushes through hastily, desperate.

“ _Dimitri_!” The name is ripped from her without a second thought.

It happens as if in slow motion. Dimitri finishes off an assassin and turns around at her shout. He has no time to react to the knife, and it stabs cleanly through his stomach. The blood drips onto the grey pavement, bright red life against cold, dark stone.

The assassin withdraws his knife and vanishes into the crowd, guards hot in pursuit. Byleth only has eyes for Dimitri, kneeling on the ground and coughing up blood. She finally breaks through the crowd and rushes to his side, applying pressure to his wound and laying his head in her lap. She tries a healing spell to repair some of the damage, but it is far too extensive and complicated for an inexperienced healer like her.

“Healer! I need a healer! _Please_!” Her screams are drowned by the roar of the crowd.

She turns back to him, tears beginning to cloud her vision.

“You’re going to be just fine,” She attempts to soothe him. There’s a tremor of panic in her voice that Byleth tries to hide. With her free hand, she strokes his hair soothingly. “The healers will be here soon, and you’ll be alright.”

She looks around desperately and yells louder. “ _Healer_!”

“Byleth,” He coughs again, red overflowing from the corner of his mouth, sticky against her bare skin. She presses down even harder, prays to Sothis that medical aid arrives soon. A shaking hand comes up to touch her cheek. “Do not…blame yourself.”

“You will survive!” Byleth snaps desperately. “I promised-”

“You were…a great partner,” Dimitri’s smile is blood red as he attempts to speak between garbled breaths. “Live well, and may we meet again in a happier time.”

His eyes fall shut and his hands go limp.

“ _No_!” The scream hurts her throat.

The healers and knights finally arrive, and she’s ripped away from his body by Gustav, who holds her upright as the anger dissolves and the horrifying realisation sets in. There’s nothing they can do. He’s lost too much blood, and he’s no longer breathing. She stares hopelessly at her shaking hands, stained in red, and wonders if all they are good for is killing.

And Dimitri dies, once again, this time under her protection.

A piece of her heart shatters along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm sorry...That last scene was hard to write. I apologise if anyone felt teary and sad :') Leave a kudos and comment if you wanna...cry with me :') On to the next lifetime!


	3. The Officer and the Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Dimitri ends up in Byleth's ER.

In the next lifetime, Byleth becomes a doctor, spurred on by the hopelessness she felt as Dimitri lay dying in her arms.

She gets used to blood on her hands. She wields metal still, but not to kill. It doesn’t mean she gets any less weary and tired, but she finds a quiet comfort saving lives in the hospital alongside Flayn. It distracts her from her nightmares of Dimitri dying amidst debris in her arms. Red smile bright in the darkness behind her eyelids.

Her next patient is admitted with multiple cuts on his face, a bullet graze on his arm and a possible concussion. The ER nurse (Mercedes) giggles as she hands her the patient chart, sighing dreamily about how cute the patient is.

Byleth ignores the usual gossip, and heads over to treat him, Mercedes right beside her. He’s leaning casually against the bed pillows, reassuring a worried Dedue (his partner, it would seem) when she comes in.

“Daniel Hopkins?” She sucks in a breath upon seeing Dimitri lying on the ER bed. His eyes snap to her figure when she comes in, and he sits up too quickly, wincing slightly at the sudden wave of dizziness. They stare at each other.

A wave of emotions washes over her; shock, happiness… _love_?

He has darker and more noticeable eye circles this time. His blonde hair is wavy and sticks out oddly. She tamps down the urge to reach forward and smooth it down.

The most striking feature, she notes, is the blue officer’s uniform he’s sporting. Protecting the innocent. _Of course he would be drawn to it_ , she thinks fondly.

Mercedes clears her throat, and she snaps out of her reverie.

She focuses and stays professional despite the earlier slip up, going through the usual motions and patching him up. His gaze is on her the entire time, an indescribable emotion on his face. Although some would call it infatuation, she has a feeling that he might be trying to place her just like the previous lifetime. But she doesn’t confirm anything.

“It’s done,” She declares after disinfecting and treating his bullet graze. “I need you to stay in the hospital overnight for observation and you’ll be free to leave in the morning.”

Dedue nods, but Dimitri looks deep in thought. Mercedes hands her a form to sign, and she takes out a pen to sign it when-

“Would you go out on a date with me?” Dimitri blurts out. Dedue’s eyebrows raise at the question. Mercedes smiles a tad deviously (oh, Flayn’s going to hear about this later for sure, the gossips.)

Her hand halts in the middle of the signature. She blinks once, twice at him owlishly. Tilts her head to the side.

This typically only happens with patients doped up on painkillers or morphine. She’s _absolutely certain_ she hasn't given him any yet. And they've only just met (in this lifetime, at least).

“Pardon?” She asks calmly, as his face deepens to an almost alarming shade of red.

“I mean – urm-” He looks to Dedue for help, but the man simply shrugs with a slightly amused quirk of his lips, as if to say _you’re on your own, buddy_. Dimitri exhales and begins again.

“Would you go on a date with me?” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, and his eyes dart between her face and his feet.

She softens at the characteristic earnestness on his face. _Take the chance_ , her heart whispers selfishly. _It might work out in this lifetime_.

And oh, she wants to. She wants happy memories to smudge the blood red smile from her nightmares, soothe the loneliness from comparing every date to him. Sothis, she wants _him_.

 _Live well_ , Dimitri whispers on his dying breath.

She caves.

* * *

The date goes excellently, and she really should not be surprised, given what she knows about his character.

He’s every bit the gentleman: respectful and charming, if a little shy. He arrives ten minutes early to pick her up, and beams widely the moment he sees her.

“You look beautiful.” The compliment brings the barest hint of a blush to her cheeks, and she ducks her head to hide it. He just smiles and gallantly helps her into the front seat.

They hit it off over dinner, swapping ridiculous stories. She tells him about the time a lady doped up on painkillers woke up every two hours to sing “ONE DAY MORE!” at the top of her lungs, and he makes her smile with a ridiculous story involving a horse breeder speeding to get an insemination sample to a lab on time. Time passes by so quickly that the waiter stops by to politely inform them that the restaurant is closing.

He drops her home after with only a warm goodnight, and no attempt to invade her personal space. Instead, she leans in to give him a chaste peck on the cheek. The resulting blush causes a rare laugh to bubble out of her.

Later, as she winds down for bed, her phone buzzes with a text.

_I had fun tonight. Meet again soon?_

She sends a text back immediately.

_Of course._

Flayn, expectedly, blows up her phone with texts asking how the date went, to spill the tea as soon as possible, and to _be happy, Byleth_. Byleth texts back a brief message promising to tell her everything later.

Her dreams that night are filled with warm laughter and tomato red blushes. It’s the best sleep she’s had since Dimitri was assassinated.

* * *

They’re out on another date when they bump into a man with what looks like a permanent scowl etched on his face, and a red-haired man. With a start, Byleth realises it’s the reincarnations of Felix and Sylvain. The more curious thing is that Dimitri tenses, the grip on her hand almost crushing. She grits her teeth to tolerate the pain.

“David,” Felix’s voice is curt, matter of fact. His eyes dart to her, then back to Dimitri. “I see you’ve been doing well.”

“I hope you’re doing fine yourself,” Dimitri answers in a calm tone, fidgeting with his free hand. He turns to Sylvain. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Sylvain smiles carelessly. “I’m glad you’re doing great. Even nabbed yourself a girlfriend, I see.” He winks. Dimitri flushes.

“Urm-” He stutters.

“Relax,” Sylvain smirks briefly before leaning in. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad you’re happy, D. Don’t waste it.”

Sylvain pats him heartily on the shoulder. Felix gives a curt nod goodbye and they go on their way. Dimitri breathes a sigh of relief.

Byleth fixes him with a questioning look as they continue their walk through the park.

“When I was younger, this gang member killed my father, the Commissioner, in cold blood. I became obsessed,” Dimitri continues quietly, eyes shadowed. He sounds pained. “I wouldn’t eat, sleep, drink…all I could think of was catching the gang leader.”

She’s quiet, listening with rapt attention. Rubbing comforting circles into the back of his hand.

“I pushed everyone away. Snapped at them when they showed me concern. When a lead showed up, I went in without backup. I nearly died, if it wasn’t for that redhead. He took a bullet to the shoulder for me.” The corner of his mouth pulls up into a grimace. “The blue-haired man was not pleased with me, to put it lightly.”

“I snapped out of it after that, made amends, tried to do better. I learnt not to waste everything for the living in pursuit of the dead.” His smile is bittersweet. “A hard-learned lesson.”

He still looks so defeated at the memory that Byleth pulls him in for a hug, arms reaching naturally around his waist. It’s so familiar; an echo from a lifetime ago. He returns the hug enthusiastically, pulling her tight to him and resting his chin on her head. They’re silent for a beat, enjoying the warmth and touch, when she feels the soft pressure of his lips on her hair. Her heart skips a beat.

“Thank you.” He whispers. She smiles and hugs him even tighter. 

* * *

The next time they meet, however, is under more grave circumstances. There’s no sign or trace of the bashful smile or innocent eyes, only a serious set of his shoulders and a calm, authoritative tone. He and Dedue are called in to take care of a child abuse victim, Bernadetta (Bernice in this lifetime). She was brought in by a neighbour who found her after escaping out of the second-floor window.

She briefs them as they walk to the room and stands next to Bernadetta’s bed as they question her, watchful and ready to step in if Dimitri and Dedue push too far. But she needn’t have worried.

Dimitri makes sure to gentle his tone and sweeten his words to not frighten her. Although Bernadetta grips Byleth’s white coat like a lifeline when they first come in, she becomes comfortable enough to smile hesitantly at Dimitri by the end of it.

He’s good with children, she realises with an ache. For a moment, she sees the image of blonde and green haired children playing in a field of flowers. But she blinks, and the moment vanishes like a morning dream.

In the end, Bernadetta reluctantly confesses what her parents did to her, and Dimitri and Dedue share an unreadable glance.

She’s furious as she tucks Bernie in, forcing her calm and friendly composure in place until the door clicks behind her.

Her hands are trembling with anger and frustration, and her jaw is set tight. Tears fill her eyes, unbidden, at the horror of a young Bernie being locked up, fed scraps, and told that she’s a waste of space and worthless. Dimitri nods at Dedue to go ahead and lays a comforting hand on Byleth’s shoulder.

“They will be punished for this.” His voice is a rock for her unsettled mind to set itself on. She takes a few calming breaths and nods.

“We’ll find Bernie a good home,” He continues, smiling gently. He pats her shoulder a few times before letting go and striding off down the hall.

The warmth of his hand lingers long after she watches them arrest Bernie’s screaming and protesting parents.

* * *

Months pass, and Byleth and Dimitri become an official couple. Flayn and Mercedes are relentless in their teasing, but Byleth takes it in stride, just happy that she gets to be with him. Prays that it lasts longer this time.

It was an uncharacteristically busy day at the Emergency Room. Byleth’s been stitching up and operating for most of her shift, and the weariness now clings to her like a familiar pair of clothes.

Two hours near the end of her shift, the unending stream of patients into the ER stops and Byleth finally manages to sign off on her patient’s chart. She exhales slowly, hoping that she can crash in the on-call room when the speaker crackles to life.

“Doctor Eisner to Operating Room Four,” The voice is devoid of inflection and empathy. “Immediately, please.”

Any thought of exhaustion is wiped from her mind as she sprints for the Operating Room. Flayn is scrubbing up outside when she reaches and starts scrubbing up too. Byleth smiles wryly. It’s not a good sign for the patient if two of the hospital’s best surgeons are scrubbing in.

Flayn’s face scrunches up when she sees her. “Byleth…” Her tone is hesitant.

“Talk to me,” Byleth continues. “Trauma patient?”

Flayn pulls two fresh gloves on and moves over to help Byleth with hers.

“Officer got shot while chasing down a suspect. He’s in critical condition and he might not make it,” Flayn’s voice falters. “By, it’s…”

Byleth’s head whips up when she hears ‘officer’. A slimy sense of dread begins to fill her stomach. It can’t be. Not him. Not again. They had just met for another wonderful date last night; he can’t leave her so soon.

“Flayn, tell me it’s not-” Everything in her is pleading for it to be someone else. Just this once. Begging Sothis to give her a chance to be happy in this lifetime.

“It’s Dimitri.”

Her heart plummets to the floor. She stares at Flayn in disbelief and resists the urge to rub her face. She’s in a waking nightmare. But she can’t afford to break or even consider the possibility of failure.

“We have to save him.” She murmurs resolutely. _She can. She has the power to save him now._

They head into the OR. Gloria Gaynor’s _I Will Survive_ is playing through the room speakers, someone’s bad idea of a fighting song for the patient, but she tunes it out. She doesn’t balk at the sight of him lying lifelessly on the operating table. She must focus if Dimitri is going to survive.

Stepping up to the table, she assesses the damage. Detaches the visceral reaction from the medical analysis and maps out the steps to repair the damage. She and Flayn confirm their analyses and prepare to operate.

Sucking in a calming breath, she tunes out the sight of bright red blood on his blonde hair and reaches out a hand. The nurse slips her the scalpel, and the operation begins.

Byleth has never been more focused and meticulous in her life. She checks and double checks everything, ensuring it’s perfect. His vitals hold stable, the steady beeping of the monitor reassuring her that he’s still alive and there with her and soothing her frantic heart.

Soon, there’s one last suture and they’ll be home free. The nurse is about to hand her the thread and needle when blood unexpectedly splatters onto Byleth’s face. The steady beeping becomes crazed and frantic, ramping up her adrenaline and her panic. Byleth and Flayn attempt to stem the sudden flow of blood while Byleth battles with the impending sense of doom.

She’s barking orders, agitated, when a familiar but distressing sound reaches her ears: a long, drawn out drone. Dimitri’s flatlined. A nurse runs for the defibrillator as another one begins CPR. The defib is thrust into Byleth’s hands and Flayn and the nurses immediately step back. The moment she hears the electricity in the defib, she shocks him. Nothing. She orders a higher voltage and tries it again. Still nothing.

She’s in a panic-fuelled haze now, barely registering anything but the drone of the monitor and the defibrillator in her hands. Her voice becomes louder and more desperate asking for a higher voltage, until suddenly everything becomes silent.

The drone of the vitals monitor is gone. So is the electricity of the defib. The nurses are silent, surprised at seeing the usually composed doctor snap like that. The only sound is her heavy, panicked breathing.

Flayn steps up to take the defib from her hands. Byleth lets her, numb.

“Time of death: 8:05 p.m.”

Her composure shatters. Her knees wobble and then give way, and she crashes to the floor. Fat tears roll down her cheeks, cutting a line through the blood splatters. An anguished scream explodes out of her throat. Flayn sits next to her, wrapping small arms around her shoulders, silent as Byleth cries.

A new nightmare crawls into her sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even Doctor Byleth doesn't have the power to save him T.T We'll see how this lifetime changes her... (Also please forgive the medical errors if I committed any. Most of my research was Google and friends in civil defense xD) Leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed!


	4. The Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Flayn open a cafe. To no one's surprise, Dimitri finds her there too.

After that, she resolves not to get involved with him again in her next lifetimes, works on keeping him out of her mind as much as possible. And Flayn’s latest venture keeps her busy enough.

Flayn has gotten the idea into her head to open a café, one which Byleth blames on the constant stream of rom-coms and ‘coffee shop AUs’ that she ingests. Seteth is, understandably, less than enthused.

“Your food is still less than stellar, Flayn,” He points out brusquely.

But between Flayn’s infectious energy and her carefully thought out business presentation, Seteth is worn down and reluctantly agrees. As Flayn titters on excitedly about her new adventure, he pulls Byleth aside and begs her to help keep an eye on Flayn.

“I don’t want hormonal boys hitting on her,” He mutters darkly. It’s a fatherly instinct, for sure, but she has a feeling that it’s about her keeping an eye on Flayn just as much as it’s about Flayn keeping an eye on her.

“Also please keep her away from the food. We do not want to accidentally poison someone.”

Byleth agrees without much resistance. She’d help Flayn out with anything, especially since Flayn was the one who had patiently pulled her out of the haze she had fallen into after Dimitri’s death. Barely eating, sleeping, picking up ungodly shifts at the hospital; barely even _living_.

After all the things Flayn did for her? She owes her.

So, she puts her heart and soul into the café; securing a beautiful and strategic location, poring over the décor and experimenting with menu options to get them perfectly right.

Everything goes well and they open on a pleasantly warm day in September, the leaves beginning to turn riotous shades of orange and red outside their café. It’s slow at first, with only a few curious passersby wandering in.

But they fall for Flayn’s charms, Byleth’s pastries and food, and the café’s cosy atmosphere. Word soon spreads and their café becomes the talk of the town. Customers visit in droves.

Byleth’s taking orders near the end of lunch hour when an eye-catching couple enters. They’re a veritable power couple; the tall man cuts an imposing figure in his suit and has an aura of quiet confidence, while the petite woman exudes charisma in a vibrant red dress. The man escorts the woman to an empty table, pulling out her chair for her, before joining the queue.

She doesn’t notice them. They’re backlit from the afternoon sun streaming in through floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and Byleth is busy with the lunch queue. However, one of the other baristas, Hilda, has taken notice and is tittering excitedly to Flayn as she makes orders. Flayn recognises the couple and worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Isn’t that guy _dreamy_?” She giggles. “I think he’s the son of the CEO of Wolfe Corporation, Dominic Wolfe! And the girl next to him looks like the heir to Rose Corporation, Evangeline Rose. I heard they’re engaged!” Hilda waggles her eyebrows.

Flayn laughs but throws a look Byleth’s way. Her ears have perked up, alert, which means that she’s heard every word. This can’t be good. “How exciting!”

“Isn’t it? They’re both so cute!”

* * *

The man reaches the cashier. Byleth sends off another café latte and then turns.

A tremor of excitement runs down her spine as they lock eyes. Gelled blonde hair, not a strand out of place. Pressed black suit and a tie that makes his eyes pop.

 _Sothis, he’s gorgeous_.

Dimitri looks like he’s experiencing déjà vu, eyes furrowed and gaze penetrating. He opens his mouth to say something-

“What can I get for you today, sir?” She keeps a polite smile plastered onto her face when every muscle in her body is primed to run. To him or away from him, she can’t quite decide. He looks vaguely disappointed, but he doesn’t push it.

“A cup of chamomile tea, and a cup of earl grey tea, please.” Dimitri smiles disarmingly, white teeth flashing in the light, and instantly, excited giggles and heated whispers erupt around them. He doesn’t seem to notice; he only has eyes for her.

“Right away, sir.” She brushes his fingers as she takes the cash. They’re smooth, unlike the previous lifetimes. But they’re just as warm as she remembers. She jolts, but he’s completely unruffled.

“Keep the change.” He winks, straightening his tie. She nods slowly, not trusting her voice.

She makes it just the way she knows he likes it; the echo of a teatime from long ago guiding her movements. When he picks up the orders, she tracks him back to…a woman. Who also happens to be Edelgard.

Edelgard and Dimitri beam at each other as they chat. Touch each other in small ways that indicate a certain level of familiarity: circles in the back of the hand, tucking a strand of hair behind the ear. He looks _happy_ , the afternoon sunlight making him glow.

Her breath hitches. Something stiffens inside her, tenses; a green-eyed monster ready to spring. _It’s none of my business_ , she repeats to herself. _He’s happy and it’s none of my business. I need to leave him alone so he doesn’t die. So he doesn’t hurt me again._ Wipes the countertop with a bit more force than usual.

She doesn’t notice that his eyes are drawn to her, glancing at her every now and again before his attention is called away by his fiancée.

Flayn is watching her, a worried look in her eyes and decides to pipe up. “Byleth?”

“I’m fine,” She murmurs, focusing on refilling the coffee grounds.

“Talk to me, By.” Flayn’s insistent.

Byleth sighs and abandons the spotless countertop. “He’s engaged and happy, Flayn. I need to leave him alone.”

“Some part of him obviously recognises you, By. He hasn’t stopped looking at you at all.”

“I can’t go through … _that_ again, Flayn. If I lose him again…” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I just want him to be happy and _alive_.”

Flayn’s contemplative; she glances over at the couple by the window then lays a hand on Byleth’s arm. “Take a day off. Hilda and I will handle things here.”

“Thank you.” She gathers her things from the staff room and runs. Past the glass windows, Dimitri’s worried gaze and Edelgard’s shrewd eyes following her down the street until she’s out of sight.

He visits the next day sans Edelgard, and the next, until he’s a regular fixture in the café every lunch hour. It’s obvious he’s there for her, but Byleth makes herself as scarce/busy as possible until he must leave for work.

His hopeful countenance drops into one of disappointment whenever he finds her conspicuously absent at the counter. At her pleading, Flayn and Hilda tell him she’s not around when he asks. But he never stops coming, gravitating towards her presence.

It’s a delicate game of hide and seek that they’re playing, but something’s got to give sooner rather than later.

She cracks first.

“ _Resignation_?” Flayn’s voice reaches an almost glass-shattering pitch. Byleth winces and massages her temples.

“I’m sorry, Flayn, but I can’t be here,” She whispers brokenly. The reason goes unsaid. Flayn softens, and reluctantly picks up the resignation letter to file it away.

“I understand.” Although she’s clearly disappointed, Flayn musters a reassuring smile and pats Byleth’s hand. “Let’s get through the day, shall we?”

* * *

She’s locking up and getting ready to go for her farewell party when she senses a presence next to her and whips around, fists up in a fighting stance.

But it’s just Dimitri, breathless but smiling widely. His cheeks are pink from the chill, and her heart pangs when she realises that it means he’s been waiting for her in the cold. “Hi.”

“May I help you?” She clears her throat and steps back, crossing her arms over her chest to resist the urge to touch him.

“I just,” Dimitri’s quiet confidence wavers. “I was hoping I would run into you again. You haven’t been at the café.”

She feels a pang of guilt at that, but quickly squashes it down.

“I’m actually not going to be working here anymore. It was my last day today. I’m sorry, but I really must go. Have a good night.” She flashes him a quick, insincere smile and turns to run off as fast as she can when a warm hand encircles her wrist. Her breath hitches.

Desperation is written all over his face.

“Please. I just want to get to know you better. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I get the strangest sense of affection and connection to you; I keep seeing _you_ in my dreams…” He shakes his head, distraught. “I’m just hoping getting to know you would answer some questions. Would you mind meeting me for a date tomorrow or when you’re available?”

She swallows. His hopeful puppy dog eyes truly are a soft spot for her. She wants to agree; can feel that magnetic pull towards him. But she steels herself. She can’t be weak. She can’t play with his life like this. She must leave him alone, so that he can live. “I can’t help you, sorry.”

And she runs, leaving a puzzled and distressed blonde in the middle of the empty street, grasping at empty air.

She gets out of there fast so that she doesn’t give in to the yawning, physical yearning in her soul for his comfort, smiles and warmth.

Many years later, she finds out his fate courtesy of the morning newspaper.

_Wolfe CEO passed on at age 89, leaves assets to charity organisations._

A hollow kind of happiness prickles at her heart. She feels bereft. _She misses him_. But she keeps telling herself that she succeeded; kept him alive. What she doesn’t see is the full headline: _Dies at 89, with no wife or children._

Byleth only sees the long life he had but doesn’t stop to think about the fact that he never married, never found love, because he had lost her all those years ago.

Flayn glances at the headline and connects the dots with Byleth’s sudden somber mood. She purses her lips and calls Rhea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear can be a great motivator, my friends. For Byleth, I guess it's to motivate her to run the other way. This chapter was obviously inspired by the famous coffee shop AU trope, and also Flayn's adorableness xD Leave a kudos and comment for coffee shop AU turned sad :') But one more chapter! Let's get that happy ending yeah ;)


	5. The Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew working in a museum could lead to such miracles?

After the café incident, Byleth feels hollow. When Rhea calls, asking for assistance in running the Fodlan History Museum, she jumps at the chance to keep herself busy again.

And she likes it. She enjoys working at the museum, crafting stories to bring dead artefacts and paintings to life for the new generation to enjoy. Her long-forgotten memories resting in museum exhibits.

What she decidedly _does not_ enjoy is Rhea’s meddling.

When she walks into the meeting room for her regular meeting with Rhea and sees Dimitri sitting in a plush leather chair, chatting quietly with Rhea, it takes all her self-control to stop her from walking back out.

Instead, she settles for throwing a look Rhea’s way that simply screams, _What the actual heck do you think you’re doing_. If looks could kill, Rhea would be dead.

Rhea smiles placidly and pretends not to notice.

“Byleth, Derek, I don’t believe you’ve been acquainted.”

“I believe I have not had the pleasure,” Byleth smiles through gritted teeth. “I’m Byleth Eisner, assistant curator.”

“I’m Derek Blakesley. I'm a History graduate from Garreg Mach University, and the new historian here. Pleasure to meet you.” Dimitri stretches out a hand for her to shake. She eyes it like it’s a venomous snake waiting to bite her. His eyes dart to Rhea, wide and bemused.

Rhea clears her throat pointedly. Byleth, feeling the weight of Rhea’s disapproving gaze on her, gingerly takes his hand and shakes it quickly before dropping it like a hot potato. As expected, what feels like electric sparks travel up her fingers at the contact, and hazy recognition clouds Dimitri’s face.

“Let’s start shall we,” Rhea smoothly interjects, cutting through the electric tension in the air. Byleth strides to the seat furthest away from Dimitri and sits. He frowns, mystified at her behaviour.

“We have an exhibition coming up: The Legacy of the Kingdom of Faerghus. Some of our archaeologists have unearthed a fully intact resting place for the legendary Blue Lions. It’s exactly as described in some of King Khalid von Riegan of Almyra’s journals. We want to display it along with…” Rhea’s voice becomes background noise as what she says registers in Byleth’s brain.

The Blue Lions’ resting place? Impressions of colourful dots of flowers, the setting sun, and Claude’s advice are brought to the forefront of her mind.

_Live your life well,_ Claude’s voice echoes.

_I don’t think I am, Claude,_ Byleth thinks miserably, casting a quick glance at Dimitri. _I’m afraid._

Oh, if only the soldiers and mercenaries could see her now. The great Ashen Demon, the revered Enlightened One, who marched into war and inspired fear in the hearts of her enemies: now reduced to a fearful mess because of love.

She’s drawn back to reality when she hears Rhea say, “The both of you will be working on this project.”

“Pardon?” Byleth snaps to attention. Her heart fills with anger.

“You’ll be working with Dimitri for this project, Byleth. Show him the ropes.” Byleth knows exactly what she’s doing, but she can’t disagree with her superior. She sighs and nods reluctantly, the bottle of anger filling with resentment.

“Good, meeting’s adjourned.”

Byleth strides out of the meeting room without waiting for Dimitri.

* * *

To his credit, Dimitri is eager to learn, bright and innocent. He emails her asking for meetings and lunch every available opportunity he gets, wanting to pick her brain on Fodlan’s history.

But she makes up excuses to not be in his presence. Asks him to ask her questions via email and uses video call for necessary exhibition meetings.

She even stops meeting the other staff for lunch because he’s there, choosing instead to hide in her office under the guise of being busy with work.

Inevitably, Rhea catches on.

She storms into her office just as Byleth’s digging into her Chinese takeout.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rhea asks in her trademark stern, motherly tone.

“I’ve been busy,” Byleth slurps her noodle and blinks at Rhea innocently. Rhea frowns and takes a dainty perch on the couch next to Byleth.

“Byleth…” Her tone’s disapproving, searching. “What’s actually going on?”

There’s no use being stubborn about it with Rhea. She has a talent for coaxing truths out of people. Honestly, Rhea should have been a counsellor instead of a museum director.

Byleth sighs and puts down her noodles, looking at Rhea resignedly. She draws her knees to her chest and rests her head on the bony kneecaps. “I can’t. Every time I look at his face…when I’m around him… He just draws me in. But I can’t afford to get involved with him. I don’t want to see him die again and again.”

Her face is open, vulnerable. “I don’t want to be left alone again.”

Rhea’s disapproving face melts into one of concern, contemplation. She moves closer to a curled up Byleth and lays a hand on her knee.

“The past is the past, Byleth, and the future is yet to come. Seize your happiness and live for the present,” Rhea inhales for a beat, before lowering her voice to a more serious tone. “I should know.”

She does. Surviving the injuries sustained after Shambhala was nothing short of a miracle. Rhea had changed after that, working to let go of the grudges and pain of Zanado, the War of Heroes, and Sothis’ death.

Rhea squeezes her knee gently before getting up. “I hope you can take my words to heart, Byleth.”

With that, she exits Byleth’s office, leaving her to stew on Rhea’s advice. The bottle of anger and resentment is joined by guilt.

* * *

She does take Rhea’s words to heart a little; she stops hiding in her office and eats lunch with the others (although she always takes the seat furthest from Dimitri). She meets Dimitri face to face to discuss the exhibition and answer his questions.

But for the most part, she is curt and to the point with him, leaving him increasingly perplexed and exasperated as to what he might have done to offend her.

She, in turn, also gets increasingly tense and frustrated when he attempts to bond with her or help her.

It all comes to a head the day before the exhibition. Byleth and Dimitri are inspecting the exhibition layout, Byleth walking quickly to avoid having to walk beside Dimitri. Her pencil rolls off her clipboard from the momentum and Dimitri runs forward to help her pick it up.

He holds it out to her.

She murmurs a thanks and takes it from him, stepping back to avoid being too close to him. His face scrunches up, and she knows instantly that this is it; he’s going to address her behaviour.

“Have I done something wrong?” Dimitri asks, exasperated, stepping boldly towards her.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Byleth deflects, stepping back towards the centrepiece of the exhibition.

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?” He presses, advancing on her like a predator tracking its prey.

“It’s not your fault,” Byleth stresses again, standing up straight and holding her ground. “I think we’re done here. See you tomorrow.”

“Please, just help me to understand! Let me make things right.” His puppy dog eyes are filled with confusion.

His heartfelt plea makes her feel guilty. The angry and dark emotions she’s been bottling up since Rhea forced her to work with him overflows. Byleth snaps.

“It’s me, okay? It’s always been me. When I meet you, things go wrong. We’re happy, I’m happy, and then it’s snatched away from us. I can’t-I can’t be near you-” She’s furious and depressed and exasperated all at once. Years of pain and suffering pour from her mouth in her tirade, even though he can’t understand. _How could he?_ He doesn’t even remember.

In her outburst, she doesn’t hear creaking wood. One of the wooden supports holding up the protective sheet over the centrepiece of the exhibit snaps; and it’s crashing, falling towards her, taking down the sheet with it. The centrepiece is unveiled in all its glory: Dimitri’s tombstone.

She closes her eyes and braces for impact, but it never comes. Instead, she feels herself being tackled to the floor, out of harm’s way. Confused, she opens her eyes.

And immediately scrambles to push off the wooden support and check on an unconscious Dimitri, the negative emotions from her earlier outburst evaporated into thin air. 

“Dimitri, talk to me!” Byleth’s tone is frantic and commanding, her medical expertise from lifetimes ago taking over.

_His pulse and breathing are normal. Nothing in his body seems to be injured_. She mentally checks off the list of critical injuries. She moves to check his head when he stirs, blinking blearily and trying to sit up.

She immediately moves to prop him against the nearby wall, checking for dilated pupils. Her voice is firm as she begins the concussion exam. “Could you tell me what day it is today?”

“2nd August, Imperial Year 2019,” Dimitri answers absentmindedly. His eyes are drawn to the portrait of King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd on the now uncovered tombstone. It’s still impressively detailed and vibrant despite a millennium of being buried. Byleth knows it’s because of Lysithea’s preservation magic.

“How old are you?” She continues, checking his head for protrusions.

“I’m twenty-four.” He answers without hesitation, his concentration still laser focused on the portrait. The face looks eerily similar…

“Okay, and who are you?” Byleth presses.

“I’m Derek Blakesley…” He trails off.

_Good,_ She relaxes. No concussion. She moves to stand when he continues.

“No…I’m…” He shakes his head harshly, as if to clear a fog in his mind. He continues speaking, sounding like he’s in disbelief. “I’m…Dimitri…Blaiddyd…”

Her heart stops. Hope catches fire within her, a fragile spark. _It can’t be_. 

His eyes suddenly snap to hers, recognition clear as a summer’s day. He opens and closes his mouth several times.

And then calls her by something that she hasn’t heard in a very, very long time: “Professor?”

“ _Dimitri_?” She whispers, unbelieving. Tears spring to her eyes, unbidden, as joy fills her heart.

He wraps her up in a hug, tight and warm. She immediately sinks into it, hugging him back. She’s waited centuries for this; it feels like coming home.

“I remember everything,” He whispers tenderly into her ear. “Prince David, Officer Daniel, CEO Derek…You were there, in every single lifetime. We were happy. I just-I left too soon. I’m so sorry.”

_For all the pain I caused. For leaving you alone to suffer,_ goes unsaid.

“I’m sorry too. For being a coward.” Tears slip from Byleth’s eyes and land on the bare skin of his neck. He just hugs her tighter, presses a kiss to her temple. She clings to him desperately, afraid to let him go. Afraid it’s a dream.

“You don’t need to be afraid anymore. I’m not letting you go again.” Dimitri promises resolutely. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst with joy.

_Don’t waste time, Teach,_ Claude’s reminder rings, clear as day.

She doesn’t.

The words she has been waiting a thousand years to say slip easily from her lips: “ _I love you_.” A weight lifts off her chest as she finally speaks it out loud. Dimitri pulls back, gazes at her with such tender, genuine love that she shivers from the intensity of it.

“I love you too. In every single lifetime.”

They meet in a soft kiss; tender and slow. Taking their time now that they’ve found each other. A pleasant trill of electricity runs down her spine. Warm pleasure pools in her stomach as the kiss gets hungrier and deeper.

She pulls away reluctantly at the sound of footsteps; he chases her mouth, but she turns her face and lays her head on his shoulder. It’s not a dream. He’s here, physical and real.

_Her Dimitri._

“Let’s go, my king,” She smiles into his skin. “We can continue this in private.”

She pauses, the thought filling her with joy.

“We have time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, my friends! Thank you so, so much for reading this! As I said at the beginning, this was inspired by comics on Tumblr that had Byleth living in the future without all of her students and loved ones there with her. I wanted to make a universe where Dimitri and other characters would reincarnate and get the happy endings, justice and resolution they didn't get in their previous lives :)
> 
> Anyways, do leave a kudos and a comment if you liked it! Always appreciated ;) Until next time and another fic :)


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